Seasons
by Macabre Melancholia
Summary: Written for the Hetalia Fanfiction Contest, prompt ChibitaliaxHRE.  Feelings change throughout the seasons, children's minds are not innocent. Feliciano ponders as Johann waits. Implied character death s .


**A/N: **This is...oh God. This is a badly written piece of fiction for the Hetalia Fanfiction Contest. I'll take this down after judging is over. Remind me never to write in a last minute attempt in the middle of the night.

I leave you to burn your eyes at the sheer awkwardness of writing style.

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><p>Feliciano sighed. Winter was giving way back to Spring again, the cold old man dying, leaving a fresh, green young child in his wake. He hated the passing of the seasons sometimes. The passage of time was a little too fast for his liking. This cycle shall repeat for decades, for centuries to come.<p>

He smoothed down his dress. Feliciano didn't really care about the proper attire of each gender now, it all seemed so unimportant to him. Nothing did, after Granpa left and his brother nowhere to be found. It did accentuate his childish and cute appearance, though.

He'd better get home soon, no use dallying around when he would probably have another job to do.

Tired. Yes, that's what he felt. He's seen too much, knows too much. People crying, begging, pleading not to end their life. People taking it all in, with a stoic expression. People with no regrets for their mistakes before the very end. He's seen it all, from one end of the rainbow to another.

How? How would a mere child with eight years have seen so much?

* * *

><p>The little blonde boy knelt down on the cold, hard soil. Soon, Spring will come, chasing away the heady scent of Winter's frost. Spring will bring back the sharp tang of growth, of warm sunlight and return of greenery. Spring would melt the ice on the lake.<p>

Spring would drive the loneliness of Winter away.

The boy prodded the ice, wishing to feel the cool current against his fingers, his digits creating ripples upon the surface. He wondered if the ice would give way if he knocked hard enough.

Shaking his head, the boy halted his tapping. It was still a long time before the ice melted. Would every year be the same? Three seasons of companionship in return for one of solitude?

He has ten years, and he has no one. Shout, and either no one hears him, or there is no one. Laugh, he wants to be alone in his wonderland, with nobody to interrupt.

A sigh escaped him. How many more days?

"When can I see you again, Ludwig?"

* * *

><p>Feliciano walks back home. He rather enjoys this, the sensation of cold air entering his lungs, a kind of freshness to the air. Better than the muggy summer heat.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Water sloshing around his oar, his gondola making its way silently across the water...<em>

_The person, always only one person in his gondola, some cowering, some in denial, a rare few taking interest in their surroundings..._

_Feliciano stays silent, eyes on the course on the gondola. Eyes never meeting the person on board unless necessary._

_Some wonder why a little boy-or a girl? Would be able to steer the sleek, black gondola. Then they look around them. The surroundings are unfamiliar. _

_No matter who is on board, no matter the age, gender, race, this question would always be asked._

"_Where am I?"_

_Little Feliciano would give them a small, sad smile, never lying to them. His grandfather had raised him right. _

"_Ve... You are on your way to hell."_

* * *

><p>The little blonde boy can't spend too much time at the lake in winter, his caretakers are afraid of him dying of pneumonia or worse. He scoffed at the thought. He'd been here so long, the lake knows him. This place won't let him come to any harm.<p>

Sitting by himself in the snow gets boring after a while, though.

He looked around him, trying to look for anything to alleviate his boredom. There were the trees; spindly-looking with their bare branches. There was the frozen lake, freezing to the touch.

There wasn't much else, other than a fig-wait!

A little boy- or is it girl? Was walking towards him. Even from the distance, he could see the other child's tired, pensive expression. One not suited for children.

The boy by the lake smiled, this surely must be his companion for Winter. Didn't Ludwig say so? He was glad Ludwig kept his promise.

* * *

><p>Feliciano walked up the road leading to the lake. Ignoring all the potential shortcuts, he made his way to the frozen surface of the water. Hard, unyielding. That was how he liked water. Not the smooth fluidity over his pole and hearse-like gondola.<p>

A grandfather's deeds is hard on the grandson indeed. Even Feliciano himself didn't know why exactly he was given the task. It was something Grandpa did, and, like it or not, Feliciano had to make up for it anyway.

He turned his attention back to the scenery, scanning his surroundings. The lake, the ice, the trees, the boy-

The black-clad boy.

Something in him told him to run, to get away. The lake whispered to him. The tree warned him, the ice spoke.

This place belonged to the boy, he shouldn't have come here, the lake told him so. Feliciano turned, skirts billowing at his sudden movement. He was about to run, when a shout-more of a plead- came from the boy.

"Please! Please, don't go! You can stay!"

How curious. The blonde looked so lonely and hopeful at the same time.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the winter, the two met at the lake. Two strange, solemn children, only ever talking, never playing.<p>

The blonde boy introduced himself as Johann. Feliciano shrugged. Names didn't matter when the boy would eventually die.

For Johann, he was grateful the winter loneliness would be no more. But what of spring? Feliciano couldn't come here for the rest of the year. He'll only permit him to come in winter.

He didn't want Feliciano to know of Ludwig.

* * *

><p>Spring came, and with it, the waters thawed, grass and leaves returned. Advent beauty always circles back. You could almost hear the otherworldly laughter of children in the renewed greenery.<p>

Feliciano never came to the lake that spring. He'd look on from a distance, nodding to Johann only when he was away from the lake.

He watches as Johann dips his fingers into the cold water, still frigid with Winter's chill. He watches his lips move, his palms touching the surface if the water, as if another person lay just beyond the surface.

* * *

><p>Feliciano poles his gondola through the familiar waterway. His passenger is silent, a girl of six. She stares at her surroundings, clutching a battered bear to her chest. Not much younger than him, Feliciano muses, and already dead from abuse, judging from the various bruises and cuts on her fragile, weak body. The little gondolier hopes that she'd make her way past Purgatorio to Paradiso soon.<p>

* * *

><p>Spring again, and as usual, time spent with Ludwig. The days go by in a flash, time always twisting and meandering in a path of its own choosing. How long had it been already? He hadn't seen Feliciano by the lake for a long time.<p>

He's happy, with Ludwig. Feliciano, the Winter companion, has disappeared with Winter. Feliciano wasn't a part of the lake in spring.

Everything's flipped upside down. He's happy, but somehow, the persona in the water seems sad. Ludwig's eyes were sorrowful, and Johann does not understand why.

* * *

><p>Summer, the bane of Feliciano's existence. It was always awfully hot, and people objected if he were to remove his clothing. Why? It made perfect sense to wear less, if nothing at all, during summer.<p>

He watches Johann at the lake again. The blonde boy seems deep in conversation, but with who? Why wasn't he allowed near the lake? The tree, the lake refused him entry. What was Johann hiding?

He's tired. He removes himself from thoughts of Johann and concentrates on keeping an eye on his passenger. A grown man, sobbing at the far end of his gondola. Let him cry, he'll face his consequence soon. A small chuckle escaped Feliciano.

Death truly is the greatest justice and democracy.

* * *

><p>Summer! The intoxicating scents mixed with the explosion of colours, bringing Johann to near delirium. Only a few days after the flowers started to bloom did he pick some and bashfully pressed them into Feliciano's hand. They sat by the tree now, nowhere near the lake.<p>

Johann still didn't understand the tired, dead look in the patient amber eyes of Feliciano. Sometimes, Feliciano would laugh to himself, leaving Johann in the dark about the joke. Sometimes, Feliciano didn't even speak, leaving Johann to lead the conversation.

He was happy this way, he told himself.

Ludwig asked him one day, about his thoughts.

"_Is it really true?"_

* * *

><p>Autumn. Flowers withered, leaving seed in their wake. The brilliant change in colour heralded one step closer to winter.<p>

He liked to be with Johann now, instead of running away from him like in spring and summer. He still remembered the time, when the winds cooled and the sun's strength waned, when Johann had pressed his lips to his cheek, and ran away after that, leaving a slightly confused Feliciano in his wake.

He steered his gondola with a real smile now, giving a glance at the little boy sitting stock still.

Winter would surely arrive soon, and by then, he could truly live for that few short months.

* * *

><p>Autumn. Fire-orange and faded brown leaves floated on the lake's surface. The wind blew across the surface of water, leaving Johann with cold cheeks. He couldn't see Ludwig in Winter. He rarely saw Feliciano in autumn. Would he lack a friend this winter? Johann refused to think about it. Throughout spring and summer, he'd grown to enjoy, even love the laughter, the words, the slight blush in Feliciano's cheeks. The uncertainty of winter scared him.<p>

_Don't leave me, Feliciano. _

_Stay with me, Ludwig. _

Johann bent over the water surface, trying to see what had caught Ludwig's reflection.

A weak whisper could be heard, if one was to listen closely enough.

"_Who is the one crying? Why do you cry?" _

I'm not crying, Ludwig. You are.

* * *

><p>During the days between the change of seasons, Feliciano went to the lake by himself, without Johann knowing. The lake didn't stop him, as if it couldn't be bothered now.<p>

Johann was apparently talking with the persona in the water. He looked up at Feliciano, shock and slight fear evident in his eyes. The persona's eyes, Feliciano noted, lit up in glee, so different from Johann's. Sharper. Harder and colder, like winter.

Feliciano couldn't move.

"He wants me to go with him. Ludwig does."

Ah, so the reflection was called Ludwig. A spirit of the lake, perhaps?

Ludwig reached out towards Johann, uselessly trying to catch hold of the solid fingers.

"I think I should. I won't be lonely in winter then."

Ludwig's eyes shone with gleeful malice, knowing that the words whispered to Johann's mind had convinced him.

Johann walked towards the water, feet barely getting wet. Feliciano still stood there, shocked, unable to do anything.

He went in deeper into the water, a few steps. The unquiet surface rippled, a gleeful voice rang out.

"Hello, hello, I've been waiting!"

A hand reached out from the water surface and grabbed Johann's hand. Johann felt himself go down, down below into the water, away from Feliciano...

He was pulled even deeper. Johann was vaguely aware of a force tugging at him. He felt his black coat slip away from his body. Lungs and throat burning with need for air, a vague sense of desperation to swim towards the surface.

Just at the moment when the burning in his chest peaked in intensity, the pain ceased, leaving a blissful, relaxed sensation in its wake. Colours blurred, shapes lost their lines and sharpness. It was so wonderfully cold...

* * *

><p>Feliciano had reached out to grab Johann before he completely disappeared underwater, only to be rewarded with his coat. He felt Johann slip from his grasp, plunging down into the lake, expression blank, serene.<p>

Feliciano did what he could do. Smile. Smile and carry on.

* * *

><p>At a distant shore, a boy with a curl on the right side of his head and a almost permanent pout-like frown got onto a black gondola and began poling the coffin-like boat to its destination. In it sleeps another child, a similar looking one with a curl on the left side.<p>

The child sleeps, yet the chest rises not. Perhaps he would get up once they've arrived, thought the child steering.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** In case you're wondering, I based this off Persona Alice and a voice actor joke. It's meant to be confusing.


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